Remnants of a Chocolate Something
by dusty windsheared
Summary: Laguna burns down Esthar on accident.


Okay, people. This here is what sort of started an out-of-control verbal fanfic between my friend and myself. It is still going on, to this day!! We have no idea when it'll stop!! It is SO out of control!!! WOOOOO!! *scary 'wooo' hand motions*  
  
But it's cool.  
  
Anyway, I don't own anything in this fanfic, except the chocolate something…so yeah. And you can't have it. *sticks her tongue out at you* Laguna and Esthar and Kiros and Ward and the imp belong to Squaresoft. And so does the chocobo. And just about everything else. Reader's Digest belongs to whoever owns it (i.e. not me). Yep! Now! On with the amusement! Yay!  
  
REMNANTS OF A CHOCOLATE SOMETHING  
  
Idea by Dark Kremepuff and friend  
  
Written by Dark Kremepuff  
  
Title idea by another friend, who I don't know if I should name. I will keep their anonymity secure. But a hearty thanks to them!!  
  
@~~~~~~~~~~@  
  
Laguna had never smoked before in his life. Ever. And, being the president of Esthar, he found himself under a lot of stress, especially with the whole Adel/Ultmecia situation. So when a messenger came into his office to tell him about Ultmecia's recently announced time compression plan thing, Laguna calmly told her it was 'a-okay' and that he'd 'take care of it, no need to worry, it's all under control,' and 'Esthar will be perfectly safe.'  
  
The moment she left and the door closed, Laguna looked about wildly, snatched a pack of Kiros' cigarettes from the side drawer of his desk, and huddled in the corner, fumbling with the lighter.  
  
He finally got it lit and took in a deep breath of the tangy smoke when the door flew open.  
  
"IYAAGTH!" he yelled, quickly tossing the cigarette into the nearby trash bin.  
  
"Laguna?" Kiros asked, standing in the door.  
  
"Um…uhm…y-yeah, Kiros?" Laguna replied, trying to look like he had not just been on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Kiros looked at him sideways, tilting his head. Laguna smiled nervously. The younger man's dark eyes widened.  
  
"Laguna, have you noticed that you have a waste basket fire?"  
  
"No, I…huh?" The president turned to see a fire burning cheerfully in his trash bin. "Oh, shoot…" He grabbed the nearest liquid, a bottle of whiskey that had been sitting on his desk (also for times of stress) and dumped it onto the flames.  
  
They spread.  
  
"Daaaaarn!"  
  
"What was THAT for?!" Kiros asked. Laguna turned from the rapidly building fire.  
  
"We should evacuate."  
  
"Why don't we…" Kiros began, looking around for a fire extinguisher or something.  
  
"Evacuate? Good idea!!" Laguna interrupted, grabbing the other man's arm and dragging him out of the room before he could protest.  
  
@~~~~~~~~~~@  
  
Less than a day later…  
  
@~~~~~~~~~~@  
  
Evidently, everything in Esthar had been very, VERY flammable. The entire city, in its huge and entire entirety, was gone, burned to the ground. However, its citizens were safe, and Laguna…  
  
He sighed as he shuffled through what used to be the shopping district. Just about everything had been reduced to black, icky carbon, and when Laguna found the remnants of a chocolate something amidst the ashes, he made the most out of his situation and ate it, not bothering to go back and share with Kiros and Ward. It hadn't been that much of anything, anyway. Whatever it WAS though, it was good.  
  
Laguna was now the FORMER president of Esthar. The people didn't seem to take kindly to a leader that burned their whole entire technologically advanced city to the ground, no matter how friendly he was, or how well he was able to manage the city's budget, or anything else otherwise. And now he knew just how horrible it was to be completely rejected by a mob of angry people. Angry people with guns. And pointed sticks. That had called for Plan B: "Operation Let's Get The Hell Outta Here," as Kiros had conveniently labeled it approximately five seconds after Laguna had dubbed it "Operation Run Away." Oh well. It didn't matter anymore.  
  
Laguna was kicking the ashes around, searching for more chocolate somethings, when he decided what he'd do. He was going back into journalism again. Get a nice apartment somewhere and write stories about his life's adventures, selling them to magazines…he could make a mint with Reader's Digest alone! Set for life, perhaps? But what about Kiros and Ward…?  
  
The raven-haired man found that his thoughts had taken his feet in a circle and he was approaching Kiros', Ward's, and his little "camp."  
  
"Did you find anything to eat?" Kiros asked immediately, looking hopeful. Ward backed him up.  
  
"…"  
  
"No…" Laguna lied, looking closely at the small, CONTAINED fire the two other men were huddled around. He was thinking of the chocolate something.  
  
"…" said Ward, half-smiling.  
  
"Am not!"  
  
"…"  
  
"I didn't find any food! I don't lie about that kind of stuff!!"  
  
"You sure?" Kiros asked with a raised eyebrow.  
  
"Yes." Laguna stated solemnly. There was a bout of silence. Then:  
  
"…"  
  
"Am NOT!!"  
  
"Quit arguing. So, YOU didn't find any food…but I did." Kiros held up a dead imp by the tail.  
  
"Eww."  
  
"…"  
  
"Are you sure that's edible?" Laguna viewed the magentaish dead beast with a disdainful look.  
  
Kiros shrugged and tried to cut the meat off the creature. There was only a little bit of stringy muscle on the arms, legs, and tail, and the body had only as much as those three put together, which wasn't much at all in the first place. Ward stoked the fire and Kiros lit up a cigarette. Laguna looked at the cigarette in a slightly guilty manner before going off to find some pointed roasting sticks. When he came back, they cooked the meat.  
  
"You can try it first, Ward," Kiros said.  
  
"…" Ward shook his head. "…"  
  
"I'M not trying it first! Kiros is the one who killed it! HE can try it." Laguna frowned.  
  
Kiros sighed and ground his cigarette out on the ground, picking some meat off his toasting fork and chewing it up slowly. He swallowed, frowned, and said, "It tastes just like chocobo."  
  
Ward grinned and shoved Kiros, who smiled as he fell against Laguna. "What? I'm serious!" He waved the meat-covered stick in Laguna's face.  
  
"Hey, I didn't say anything." Laguna leaned away from the still smoking meat.  
  
"Ward didn't either." Kiros replied. Ward winked and proceeded to devour the flesh off of the stick.  
  
"…"  
  
"Told you so…" Kiros said thickly through a mouthful of imp.  
  
Laguna looked sadly down at the charred flesh on the stick, wishing he hadn't burnt Esthar to the ground. Right now, if he hadn't decided to take up smoking, he could be eating a delicious dinner of steak, potatoes, gravy, cranberry sauce, wine, jell-o, ice cream…  
  
Ward's "Your drooling, Laguna" caught him quite off guard, so much that he almost fell into their small fire.  
  
"Oh…s-sorry." He wiped his mouth and took a small bite of the imp, preparing for the worst, but found that Kiros was right…it DID taste just like chocobo. And it wasn't all that bad, either.  
  
@~~~~~~~~~~@  
  
The next day the three men woke up to a sight that boggled the mind. Esthar had miraculously re-built itself overnight (hey, Rome may not have been built in a day, but Esthar WAS!). It was very strange, to fall asleep in ashes and ruins only to wake up in a fountain in a shopping mall. After climbing out of the wishing pool, Kiros came up with a semi-great idea…that the three of them could start a pest control company!  
  
Laguna turned them down politely, wanting to follow up on his recurring need to write stories for magazines. Kiros and Ward didn't mind, though. In fact, they supported him whole-heartedly. In almost no time at all Laguna had found a nice little apartment in a nearby city and that's where he stayed, Kiros and Ward moving into some other place to build their pest control business.  
  
And after he got settled, he ate ice cream and wrote stories and lived happily ever after, THE END! ^_^  
  
@~~~~~~~~~@  
  
Well, there you have it. I dunno…I like it, at least. Please feed the author! Flames, comments, and questions are all welcome, even though I will probably just feed the flames to Moomba. Or throw them at him so he stops playing "The Lion Sleeps Tonight" repeatedly on that blasted CD player… 


End file.
